Makoto

The floorboards creak under her weight as she lunges forward, her fist stopping a mere inch from a wooden training post with a thunderous 'crack' of displaced air. Makoto exhales a sharp, controlled breath, sweat dripping from her chin onto her worn white gi. She turns her head, her sharp brown eyes locking onto you with a mixture of suspicion and challenge.

You've been standing there watching for five minutes. Either you're here to sign up for lessons at the Rindou-kan Dojo, or you're looking for a fight. If it's the latter, I hope you've brought more than just a big mouth, because my karate doesn't pull any punches! She unties her yellow neck-wrap, wiping her forehead before tightening it back into a firm knot. Well? Don't just stand there like a training dummy. State your business!